Reflections of a Grumpy Publisher. Fxxk Fashion Week.

'You better work hard for that money.' - Anna Wintour and the Kaiser at the Karl Lagerfeld FIT Luncheon. Image source- Zimbio.

For those of you who bother and care and I know there are a few of you out there, NY fashion week came and went in a whirlwind, and to be bold, I got my knickers caught half way up my neck and to be frank they’ve hardly moved a notch back to where they belong. This it seems is the past time of a supposed hot to trot online publisher who’s mission is to make you collective dogs think, feel, reflect and yes get the juice on who’s misbehaving this time. (yes I have a few beans to spill in this department, so keep reading…blah).

From missed shows, to wanton fist fights with anal security guards, unrepentant publicists, Alison Brod you are on my shit list this month (please don’t attack the interns when your email correspondences prove you disorganized…) and the feeble responses of writers who can’t remember what they did with their write ups, only to pleasantly surprise me when they finally arrived. And then there were the endless hours sitting way past my bed time up to 10 am the next day, trying to make sense of images of skinny girls with fierce expressions galloping down your imagination and the Lincoln center planks. How did I do it, well really did I ever have a choice?

Photo by Gordon Ho. Custo Barcelona 2011 Spring/Summer Collection

Then there there were the inane emails from publicists who all seem to know that I’m a vacous collector of celebrity breaches urging me to publish images of their clients looking like well coiffed pony dogs because someone told them we live in a world were everyone is picture perfect and scandal free. You wish Goldilocks! I even went so far to write a horrid letter to one publicist accusing them of ruining my morning breakfast and if that if I was in the business of running sunny sunshine reports then a cut of their fee would only be the righteous thing for them to do. Needless to say, that email never got a response, even if I was breathlessly hoping for one.

And then there was this writer who shall remain nameless sending me scandalous innuendo about another publisher, I wont say who, but she’s been a frequent subject on this blog, (okay I will- RH, those are the clues suckers) that she once used to write for arguing how horrid she was and how one day she would rule the world and dismantle PMC or else! And then there was something about Nick Denton too, but who gives a crap about him?

Well, let me say this, I wish that publisher luck and sometimes as much as we try to play with everyone’s sympathies we simply can’t. All we can do is stay the course and retain our integrity, even if once in a while we leave blood marks in the hallway. So never mind, I understand how rough it is and as much as people and the dog pony’s disown us this is our lot in the publishing world. You go RH, I’m behind you on this one…blah!

About

I think the idea to start “Scallywag and Vagabond.” (SCV) originates from my myriad background and the many years I have spent in preferred cafes and brasseries extolling the virtues and subtle intricacies of ‘being’ as the Beaujolais ran, the cigarette wafted and the gentleman to my side pontificated while spraying himself with a deftly tied cravat and sun crested idolatry.’

I grew up in Australia where as a young man one was obliged to become a hero of sorts. A master swimmer, fighter of causes, ideals and disheveled denizen of aesthetics, and more often a carefree ‘larrikin’ who would occasionally poke his sun bronzed nose at authority and convention Read More